Worth Falliing For
by Eclips33
Summary: Because some characters need a happy ending...eventually. Maybe. AU of the Godstiel mess. Slight crossover with Good Omens, which is not owned by me.
1. Chapter 1

This work is based off both Supernatural and Good Omens, neither of which belong to me.

….

Cast:

Angels and Demons:

Crowley: Serpent of Eden, King of Hell, Flash Bastard, Five Time Winner of the Not-as-Much-a-Jerk as he could have been award.

Castiel: An angel of the lord addicted to hamburgers. Currently nuttier than a squirrel's stash before winter

Aziraphale: Principality of the Eastern Gate. Status: Pissed Off

Naomi: Just...Run.

Raphael: Archangel of Healing, He With The Stick Up His Butt

Zachariah: Didn't this guy die already?

Gabriel: Still Pretending to be Dead

Humans:

Dean Winchester: Hunter, Righteous Man, Somewhat of a Jerk

Sam Winchester: Hunter, Currently Possessing a Soul, Vessel of Lucifer

Bobby Singer: If you don't know who he is, you're an idjit.

God: Still won't say if I'm playing Poker or Go Fish

…..

"Well," the Serpent said. "That went over like a lead balloon."

Instead of the gentle disapproval of the angel, he met the decidedly not-gentle glares of the Winchester brothers. "Oh come on," he said. "You know you're both thinking it. Your little pet angel decided to get juiced up, and let me tell you, there's a reason I was gonna split the souls."

"Shut up," Dean barked. "What just happened?"

"And you're supposed to save the world," Crowley scoffed. "I swear to Manchester, whoever designed your destiny to do more than opening a bottle of beer really screwed up. What just happened, moron, is that The Little Angel That Could just consumed the soul of every being in Purgatory. You heard him. He wants to be God."

"This is your fault," Dean snapped. "You manipulated him into this."

"Don't be stupid, Squirrel," Crowley said. "This screw up is all on the winged idiot's shoulders. There's a reason no one has tried to open purgatory before. You heard the saying power corrupts? Well, your angel's gonna be in hell in a couple of weeks with the way he's going. An angel isn't built to hold that much longer. Archangel, maybe, but a little lower case arch angel like Castiel? Not so much. So instead of blaming semi-innocent parties, I suggest you get working on a way to get the angel back."

Sam studied the King of Hell coldly. Crowley could see him plotting a painful demise for himself. Worse, the younger Winchester would probably feel sorry about killing him. Sam reminded him of his angel sometimes, all sweet and polite until you pissed him off. He shuddered, cursing Castiel silently for trapping him in this devil's trap.

Dean was much more forceful, brandishing the demon killing knife angrily. "How, exactly, do we do that? Huh?"

"Now, now, you should know I don't give out freebies," Crowley chided. "But I might be persuaded to give you a starting place for, oh, putting the knife away and letting me out."

Dean looked Crowley over. He was as well-groomed as ever, giving the appearance of lounging about with nothing to do, even while locked in the devil's trap. "You've already proven you'll break a deal," he spat. "You haven't given Bobby's soul back, have you?"

"He hasn't," Sam said. "I'm not surprised Castiel double-crossed you, really. How could anyone ever trust a demon, let alone the King of Hell."

"I really don't need or want your trust," Crowley deadpanned. "Demon, remember? In fact, I don't need you at all. You're the ones who need me. So, how about being a little politer, hmm? Before you, hmm, piss off the guy who can help you save your little friend."

"How would you even know how to get the souls out of Cas," Dean demanded. "Did you plan this?"

"Yes, I planned getting double crossed by the goody-two-shoes," Crowley sneers. "It doesn't pay to be a demon without a backup plan. I'm going to have to be selfish, though, and insist you let me out. I would like to make a new deal."

"Can I talk to you outside," Sam hisses at Dean.

"You can't seriously be considering this," Dean retorts. "We should just gank him and call it good."

"I'm hurt, Dean. And after all we've been through," Crowley joked, though he did send a nervous look at the devil's traps.

The Winchesters ignored him. "We don't have any other choice," Sam hissed. "Bobby couldn't find anything about how to close Purgatory."

"Exactly," Dean exclaims. "If Bobby can't find anything, what makes you think Crowley can?"

"Because I am a very old demon, and Singer is a human?" Crowley smirks. "True, he has a very nice library, but…" he leers "Mine's bigger."

Dean scoffs. "You collect books."

"Well, I'm onto someone's collection for them. I much prefer those fancy gadgets humanity keeps coming up with, but what can you do?"

"Books, Dean," Sam says eagerly.

"Seriously, Sammy? Do I really need to remind you of the last time you trusted a demon?"

"Seems an angel or two got you into this mess," Crowley interrupts.

"Shut up," Dean snaps. "Look, I want to help Cas as much as you do. But this guy kind of is the reason Cas is in trouble right now. He'll stab us in the back just as fast as you can say 'I told you so'. Which I will be saying!"

"I repeat, what choice do we have? I don't have the faintest idea how to stick those monsters back in Purgatory, Castiel's gone nuts, Bobby doesn't have his soul, and Heaven's in the middle of a civil war! If you know a better way to get out of this mess, I'd love to hear it."

Dean scowls. "Fine. But when this is all over, I'm ganking him." He drags the knife through the devil's trap. Crowley steps out, grinning. His grin fades when the sound of wings fill the air.

"We might want to get out of here," he says, glancing around nervously.

"Why," Sam asks, shotgun held at the ready. "Who is that?"

That turned out to be a very gay, slightly chubby British angel. Carrying a flaming sword.

"Let'ss jussst say he doesssn't like me very much right now," Crowley hissed. Literally. The angel began to walk toward them serenely. Both hunters shot at him. "Not going to do anything, idiots." Crowley flung out his hand, and the building began to shake. Chunks of the ceiling dropped down. The angel kept walking, the debris suddenly finding it wise to avoid him or be set aflame. "Neither will that, but it'll slow him down." He grabbed both hunters by the shoulders, and the next second they were standing outside Bobby's house.

...

A/N: So...apparently a royal flush does not win in Candyland. I would like to inform God that if he wants me to play Candyland, I need the little plastic pieces. Or buttons, I'm not picky. Speaking of buttons, there is a very convenient one at the bottom of this page. Reviews would be lovely if you have the time.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own either Supernatural or Good Omens. Yet...

...

Last time...Castiel eats Purgatory and declares himself God. Crowley suggests a deal. An angel tries to kill them. They go to Bobby's.

...

"Where's my car," Dean demands as soon as his eyes open.

"Who was that," Sam, slightly more practical, demands.

Crowley gestures behind them, where the Impala is parked. "Your attachment to that thing cannot be healthy."

Sam watched Dean reunite with his car with the exasperated fondness found only on embarrassed siblings. "I repeat, who was the angel?"

"He wants me dead. Now, I do believe we have a deal to hammer out."

"You don't keep your deals," Dean snapped. "You promised to return Bobby's soul!"

"Ever think that I already did," Crowley asked. "It's not like he would know. He's just human. Let's not forget who holds the cards here, boys. You want your angel back, you had best not piss me off too much."

Sam frowned. "You don't normally push this hard for a deal. You manipulate, but this...You're being very blunt. You need this deal as much as we do."

Crowley scoffed. "And what, exactly, could make the King of Hell need a deal with a couple of humans?"

"The angel terminator back at the warehouse, maybe." Dean had stopped making sure his car was alright and now stood studying the demon. "What was the deal with him anyway?"

"Angels don't have genders, actually," Crowley corrected absently. He sighed. "I need a drink. And no offense to Singer, his decor could use a bit of work. You'd think he doesn't want customers." He started toward the house. The pieces of metal on the pathway in front of him decided now would be a good time to be elsewhere.

Dean clutched the demon killing knife like a safety blanket and followed him. Sam, sighing, followed the both.

If Bobby Singer was startled to find the King of Hell and Winchesters on his front porch, he sure didn't show it. Both hunters downed a shot of holy water. Bobby turned expectantly to Crowley. "You can't get much more possessed than you are. What brings you lot here this time?"

"An angel tried to kill us," Sam said. Crowley smothered a snicker. Sam had sounded as though he were reporting to the school principal.

"Like that's new," Bobby scoffed. "What else?"

"Their angel ate purgatory and declared himself God," Crowley said before one of the Winchesters could muck this up.

"Well, at least he won't start the apocalypse again," Bobby said.

"He's going to go insane, try to destroy the world himself, then die," Crowley explained. "I really should have had him read the warnings on the ritual."

"I've heard weirder. You here to help or try to kill us?"

"Mutually beneficial deal."

"What are the terms," Bobby asked.

Dean exploded. "What is wrong with you!? Have you forgotten he's the King of Hell? Demon, here? Demon deals never go well, and he doesn't hold up his end of the bargain very well."

Crowley hissed. "That's the second time you've implied I don't keep up my deals. Do not do so again."

"I'll stop insinuating it when you give Bobby's soul back!"

Crowley glanced at Bobby. "Did you tell them the deal was your legs in exchange for your soul?"

Bobby snorted. "Idjits didn't bother to ask for the specifics."

"What did he want, if not your soul," Sam asked, worried.

"A couple of favors," Crowley replied vaguely. When Dean went red and made a choked noise, he snapped, "Not that kind of favor!"

"Books, Dean," Bobby said patiently. "Well, one."

"Did you find it," Crowley asked.

"Yeah. Agnes Nutter's second book, Further Nice and Accurate Prophecies. Load of hooey, to be honest. A tree full of high monkeys went evil?"

Crowley snickered. "Sounds about right. So, you're resolved of that deal. Hardy boys, let's get down to business." (to defeat...the huns[Sorry, not enough sleep])

"No one's going to listen to me," Dean demanded. "He will stab us in the back!"

"Do you want your angel back or not, Winchester," Crowley said coldly, eyes narrowed. "If you do, you work with me. If not, the power gets too much for his poor angelic mind and he starts killing everything until he is stopped, when he goes straight to hell. But if you want him to end up under Alistair's thumb, go right ahead. Keep arguing with me."

Dean punched him in the face. Crowley raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, as Dean howled and grabbed his hand. "Feel better," he asked sardonically.

Sam moved protectively in front of Dean. "What do you want in return for your help," he asked.

Crowley smiled. "Finally, we get down to business. I give you the ritual and help Deano here perform it on Cas, you bring me the, what did you call him, terminator angel."

"You want us to kill an angel," Sam said. "Sure, why not? You have a spare angel blade?"

The air grows heavier as Crowley's eyes flash yellow with slit pupils. Dean and Sam drew back, reaching for weapons. "You will not kill the angel," Crowley hissed. "Ssshould you do sso, not only will I enssure you die, I will hunt down the ssouls of everyone in your family and make what Alisstair doess a mercy."

"No killing him," Sam says quickly. "Got it. But, uh…." he pauses while Dean puts the demon knife to Crowley's throat. "You're still fair game." His expression hardens. "Why do you have yellow eyes? What are your plans?"

"He's a fallen angel," Bobby says. "Serpent of Eden, Creator of the Original Sin, Tempter of Eve, Mother of Monsters."

...

DON'T REVIEW! DO NOT PRESS THAT BUTTON!

...Did reverse psychology work?


	3. Chapter 3

Previously…"You get your angel back in return for giving me the angel that just tried to kill everyone."

"Sure. We'll kill him. Why are your eyes yellow?"

"He's a fallen angel. Serpent of Eden, Creator of the Original Sin, Tempter of Eve, Mother of Monsters."

…..

"I dislike the way you phrased that," Crowley protests. "Just to be clear, Eve is the Mother of monsters, not me. I'm not even responsible for her going batshit insane. I blame the whole Cain/Abel mess for that. You read Agnes' book."

"I wasn't about to give anything to the King of Hell without going over it first. I thought it was originally a load of hogwash. Now, I'm not so sure I want to give an authentic book of prophecy to you."

"How do you know it's real," Crowley asked.

Bobby opened the book to a random page. "2694. The Singer calls the Righteous Man an idjit. There was an Apocalypse twenty years back with the Antichrist, then?"

"That is true," Crowley admitted.

"What are you two talking about," Sam asks.

"He's been on Earth since the Garden of Eden," Bobby says. "Apparently, Heaven and Hell tried a practice run couple decades back. According to the book of prophecy, the demon here played a big part in saving humanity. Stood up to Heaven and Hell both."

"You've tried to save humanity twice now, then," Sam asked. "Why?"

"Humans are interesting," Crowley explains. "Besides, if Earth doesn't exist, I have to spend time in Hell." He made a face. "Booring. Honestly, I'd rather die on Earth than live in Hell."

Dean grimaced, remembering his own time in Hell. "I can get that. You really stood up to Hell, though?"

'Your ears work, Squirrel? That's what Singer said."

"Why aren't you dead or broken on a rack somewhere then?"

Crowley's face went blank for a moment, and he looked in that instant human in his pain. Then he shrugged, smirking. "Went into Witness Protection for a while, got a new vessel. Besides, Heaven set an angel after my very fine behind. The old management figured I wouldn't be around long enough to need dealing with."

"What happened to your angel," Bobby challenged. Crowley flinched, shock and anger warring on his face before he deadened it.

"I don't have an angel," he hissed.

"Book says you do," Bobby pressed. "Says he was at your side when you stopped the first Apocalypse. Normally, I'd say that was crap, but used to be the idea of a hunter and demons working together was ridiculous. Why can't you call on him to help with the one after you?"

Crowley scowled. "Because he's not around anymore, okay?! Heaven...well, they got their hands on him."

Dean and Sam both looked away awkwardly, remembering Zachariah and other not-so-angelic celestial beings.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Right. You give us the ritual, we give you the angel."

"That's part of it, yes," Crowley agreed. "But not all. Once I have the angel, Dean-O here is going to do a little ritual."

"What type of ritual," Dean demanded. "Look, I'm all for kicking the ass of any angel that comes after me and Sammy, but I'm not going to torture one."

"It ain't meant to torture," Crowley says firmly. "In case it hasn't slipped your mind, I'm not an angel. I don't give a bloody dam- blessin- something if you won't torture someone. I've got demons for that. And Barney. Point is, you get the angel and do that ritual, I not only give you the means to de-soul your little angel, I help you hold him in place long enough to perform it."


	4. Chapter 4

Don't own….

Bobby shooed Crowley off the property with threats of holy water shortly after that shocking announcement. Then he goes and finds the biggest bottle of whiskey he owns and three glasses. Dean and Sam gulp theirs down rapidly.

"This is fucked up," Dean says bluntly. "The King of Hell used to hang out with an angel." He pours himself another glass. "Isn't it bad enough Cas was conspiring with him behind our backs?"

"That was just a business arrangement, though," Sam points out. "It's just, you're saying Crowley was actual friends with an angel. As in, cared enough about him to miss him? Demons don't do that."

Bobby shrugs. "According to the book, yeah. Crowley and this one angel over in Britain stopped an Apocalypse a few decades back. The book ain't very detailed, but it seems there were no seals or vessels. Apparently, Hell put the Antichrist on earth to let Lucifer free. The Antichrist told good old Lucy to back off, and thought that was the end of it. From what I've gathered, Heaven and Hell both kept him in the dark last go-round, or things might have turned out differently. Crowley tried to approach him but, well, you seem to have seen the reason he couldn't get within the same country for long."

"Does the book say who the angel that tried to kill us was," Sam asks. "Or anything about how to beat him?"

Bobby reaches for a new bottle of whiskey. "The angel that tried to stop the Apocalypse with him. Seems Heaven really is not the Paradise it claims to be."

Dean shrugs. "It's not as if we didn't already know angels were douches. Of course he'd be fine with killing his friend."

Bobby shook his head, then drowned a glass of whiskey. "Heaven 'purged him of earthly attachments'. They believed he had been on planet for too long if he would willingly stand side by side to fight with a demon."

"That sounds...euphemistic," Sam ventures. "What did Heaven do to him?"

"The author doesn't know the exact details, or the terminology for most of the process," Bobby mused, flipping the book open. "From the sound of it, they injected foreign Grace into the rogue angel and combine it with…" He pours himself another drink. "Well, it can be described as lobotomy."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, then reached for their own alcohol simultaneously.

...

AN: I have no clue when this will be updated again. For anyone who wants to take this concept and run with it... have fun.


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